Tragic Magic
by PeaceLoveMusic779
Summary: Fang, Max, Nudge, Angel, Gazzy, Dylan and Iggy are sent to a foster home after separate tragic events. When all the hope has been sucked out of them, all the happiness in their soul is gone, will they find comfort in eachother? FAX, NIGGY, DANGLE. 2 OC's that are gay. Don't worry, I won't make anything graphic between them O.e -Andiey
1. Chapter 1: Shock

**Tragic Magic**

Chapter One: Shock

_*Four Years Old*_

The boy stared up at the huge tree that he used to climb, that he used to spend every waking hour in. He would look at the sky, watch the birds fly above him and listen to the pond's churning waters'. He was so happy then. So carefree and joyous; the most blissful moments were up there, sitting in his tree.

He wasn't like most kids. He didn't like to play with toy cars or talk to any "friends." He didn't like people much, actually. He was only four, but he was intelligent. He knew how to survive in the wilderness if there was ever an accident; he knew how to tend to wounds; he knew how to fight. He knew anything that really mattered in this world. Anything that would help him survive, except one thing: Escaping the inevitable.

Walking up to the tree, the boy stroked the bark with his little fingers, shaking his long black hair out of his eyes and taking shallow breaths, feeling as though he was being suffocated by an unknown force beside him. He clenched his hand into a fist, knowing that none of this was fair. They couldn't take away his home, too. His parents left, and now he was leaving his house.

It just isn't fair, he said to himself. There were no other words to even begin to describe this. His small hand stroked the bark of the tree once again, trying to let the bad memories go and the good memories in again, but it was too late. He knew what had happened at this tree the night before this one. After all, there were still blood stains on the bark and leaves, still the looped rope that hung from the top branches. This tree was evidence that everything the police said was true. His family was gone.

-[**]**[**]-

The little girl lay on the floor of her parents' apartment, starving and wishing that they had at least left a little bit of food in the cupboard for her. She was now too weak to even walk the little ways to the cupboard. She was too skinny for her age; only four years old. She was scrawny from lack of food and her brown sun-streaked hair had lost its soft and shiny quality days ago, leaving her with a greasy rat's nest. It had been a week since they left, and no one has come to even check on the obviously abandoned apartment. She knew that if she didn't get help soon, she would die here.

She weakly pushed off of the cream-colored carpet and got to her knees. Immediately, she began to feel sick and queasy. She grabbed at her stomach, trying to make the pain of hunger go away, but to no avail. She needed a hospital; Fast.

She got to her feet, swaying slightly. Her stomach churned and she coughed. She bent over and threw up blood. She stared in horror at the puddle of red on the carpet, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

What if no one could help her? She thought, her mind whirling with horrid thoughts. She didn't want to die, not at four. She didn't know why her parents' and siblings' had left, leaving her here with no food. She didn't know why they didn't want her. She wasn't a bad child. She always did her chores, always cleaned up her messes, and always did everything they asked her.

She didn't look like her dad, like Ari had, and she didn't look like her Mom, as Ella did. Her siblings' had hated her, but she did nothing wrong to them. She always listened to them, always comforted them when they needed it.

Needless to say, Max was confused. She'd always been the perfect daughter. She was intelligent for a four year old. She knew her manners, she also knew how to survive in the wild if it ever came to that; but this wasn't the wild. She couldn't save herself by eating berries or plants.

She took a step forward, clutching at the wall. Her legs felt like jelly under her, so weak and skinny. She walked a few more steps before falling down again, making a thud sound when her body hit the floor in a heap. What was she going to do?

-[**]**[**]-

In the back, all the strawberry-blond haired boy could do was watch as the car smashed against his own. His head swung forward; the car seat restraining his body from doing so also. The crash brought noises of all sorts with it. He heard the noise of the car grinding against metal, His parents whimpering in pain, and the unmistakable noise of police sirens.

The glass all around the car was shattered, all the windows broken, even the backseat windows. He was too shocked to move, too shocked to do anything, really. The sirens got closer and he could hear everybody panicking, screaming, and wailing. He could hear footsteps and he could feel his heart clenching with fear.

He sat there for a moment until realizing that he couldn't see anything. Blackness all around him, that's all he saw. He guessed maybe it was too dark to see anything, maybe they had crashed in a tunnel and it was dark.

Yeah, that's it. He told himself, trying to convince himself that nothing was wrong. He could no longer hear his parents' moaning and he was beginning to panic. Why couldn't he hear them anymore?

The police sirens got louder and louder until they finally stopped. The boy heard footsteps and knew that they were there for this crash. They were there to help.

His gut twisted, his stomach feeling funny. His breath felt shallow, like his chest had a weight on it. He couldn't comprehend this feeling, but he didn't like it. Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal two policemen. They stared wide-eyed at the parents' and then one whispered to the other.

The other policeman nodded and looked at the little boy. He smiled, but it was forced. He opened the door that the boy was sitting by, and he unbuckled him, an expression of pure sadness on the man's face. "C'mere little guy, we've gotta get you a home." Were the last words he had heard before passing out, going limp in the policeman's arms. The last thought he had, however, was that his parents' were dead.

* * *

**A/N:**

_And I'm BACK!  
I know, I've been gone so long. ;)  
So, I LOVE writing this. Just wanted to let you know. _

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY, I posted it:)  
I hope it's okay, and the chapters will get longer as I go:)  
ENJOY:D_

_-Andiey_


	2. Chapter 2: Resistance

**Tragic Magic**

Chapter Two: Resistance.

_*Six Years Old*_

Fang woke up to yelling; aware that he was in yet another new home. He stretched and yawned quietly, knowing that if he made even the smallest noise they'd beat him. He inwardly groaned, thinking about how if he was in a caring family he'd be sleeping soundly and eating enough for his high metabolism. He shook his head; no reason to think of something impossible.

Fang's jet-black hair was messy from sleep and his black eyes were glazed slightly, letting you know he was just waking up. He took in his surroundings. He was in a cramped basement with a low ceiling, and walls which were shedding paint. He didn't have to crouch yet, but he knew if he waited a few years here that he'd soon have back problems. The basement had no bed and no bathroom; just some newspaper for a toilet and a blanket for a bed. There were no pillows and absolutely no comfort. Fang panicked a bit, knowing that if they kept him, he'd be living like this. However, his thoughts soon left him when he heard someone coming down the stairs.

The footsteps slowed, stopping in front of Fang. "Nicholas, I'm disappointed in you. You fell asleep right when we got here. You're supposed to do work." Fang's new father said, looking at him with an expression of disgust and blue eyes full of hate.

"But I don't want to work." Fang said innocently, looking straight into his eyes; Black against Blue.

Blue won, obviously.

"Nicholas, go clean. When I get back, I expect it to be spotless. If it's not, well, you know what will happen."

Fang didn't respond at first, but ever so slowly, he nodded, not trusting his voice, tears in his eyes. He knew that he could not escape from this Hell-Hole without some pain. He was going to have to toughen up and do some major rule-breaking if he wanted out of this house.

-[**]**[**]-

Max tried to pry the woman's fingers from her arm, wincing when they only tightened. Her foster mom's fingers were too familiar to her skin. Her arms had dents from her, as did her legs and even her head.

That woman was the only woman who would even look at her, let alone adopt her. Max hadn't been adopted since she got abandoned; only adding to the fuel of her raging depression. She was only six, but she knew what depression was, and she knew she had it. The woman seemed nice at first, telling her that her name was Linda. But that nice attitude she went by when she was signing papers was gone in an instant. When they got into the car, she immediately smacked Max's face, causing a bruise to form in the blink of an eye.

From there on Max tried to get away, she really did. At first, she crawled through the windows. Then, she took out the trash and tried to run. After that, she didn't know what to do. All of the windows were barred, and all of the doors were locked. They had a lock on the top of the door, so Max couldn't reach it even if she tried.

Linda's abusings' came more frequent now-a-days. Max would get hit when she wasn't doing anything wrong. Her mother would come home drunk and start beating her, taking out all of her anger on Max. Max didn't know what to do. She couldn't run, couldn't hide, and she couldn't fight back. She was going to have to live with it.

She found herself thinking, Why couldn't my parents' just have kept me?

-[**]**[**]-

Iggy was living with his Aunt. His Aunt, Marge, was nice and she was like a real mother to him. She made him cookies and she taught him how to cook. Soon, Iggy was cooking like a pro, even at the age of just six years old.

Cooking and baking were Iggy's escapes. He would go to those whenever he felt sad, guilty, regretful, or even depressed. Cooking helped him in many ways. He loved it.

He still had night-mares of his family. He heard their screams, their groans, their moans. He heard the car smashing into the other car. Glass-shattering, Metal grinding against metal. He heard everything he heard when it actually happened, but reincarnated to sound worse in those dreams.

That day, Iggy was taken to the hospital in a police truck. He only had a few scrapes and bruises. He didn't lose anything that really mattered. Of course, except his sight.

At first, they said that he was only temporarily blind. He waited weeks and even months for his sight to return. It never did. When he went back in, they said that they had made a mistake. He wasn't temporarily blind, though he wished he was, he was permanently blind.

But Iggy knew that would happen. Even at that age, he wasn't stupid. He knew after three months that it was permanent. He didn't have a problem with it most of the time, but sometimes, it would keep him up at night.

He despised nighttime. All he saw was darkness, all the time. He didn't want to be in darkness physically, too. Also, that was the time when his worst thoughts and fear and experiences came to life in his imagination. That was when he got so scared he would cry out to his Aunt, or when he had such a bad nightmare that Aunt Marge had to come in and listen to him scream all night. She said that if you woke someone up from Night Terrors, that it would become worse.

At first, Iggy, believed her when she said that. But now, after the 10th Night Terror in a row, they were getting worse. He didn't know what to do, or what to try. He told his Aunt about them, but she was as helpless as he was.

Soon, she started taking him to a psychiatrist. She was told that they could help him, and she wanted him to have help. She desperately loved and cared for him, and it pained her whenever he would scream into the night, tears dripping down his horror-stricken face. She knew he needed help, and she intended to get it for him.

After about a month of psychiatry, Iggy was doing better. He wouldn't wake up screaming every night, and he found himself actually happily dreaming a few times. The psychiatry was definitely helping, but one cooking malfunction gone wrong, and they came straight back.

He was baking a cake. It was Aunt Marge's birthday, and he wanted to surprise her. He knew she loved cakes, so he baked her one. It didn't take long for the fire to start. At first, Iggy didn't know everything around him was on fire, but then, he felt it. He smelt it.

"Auntie!" He screamed, trying to search for a way out without getting burnt. He couldn't see anything, obviously, and he didn't know where a clear space was.

"Yeah, Igs? What's that smell, sweetie?" She replied, and he heard her getting up and walking to the kitchen.

"IGGY!" She screamed, just as he passed out, coughing.

* * *

_**A/N: **_

_Sorry Guys!  
I got shipped off to my Grandpa's for the weekend and I couldn't access the chapter because I saved it on my computer, not his.  
I almost have Chapter Three done, so I'll post that when it's there.  
Good Chapters take time, just remember that. XD_

_Alright, well.  
Random Question #1: What's your favorite song? _

_Until Next Time, Y'all. Bye:) _

_-Andiey_


	3. Chapter 3: Strength

**Tragic Magic**_**  
**_  
_Chapter Three: Strength._

_*Past*  
*An Hour Old.*_

"MONIQUE! Come back to us! Don't die here! Your daughter needs you!" Her husband, John, sobbed. He needed Monique. He needed her to help him. He couldn't be a single father. He needed her. He loved her. "Monique... Baby, please..."

He sobbed harder when there was no response to any of this. He put his head on her chest, still holding one of her hands which were becoming very cold. He heard no heartbeat, and she wasn't breathing. She was gone.

"NO! Monique! No!" He knew she was gone, but he couldn't help it. He started preforming CPR on her, trying to get her to wake up.

He remembered that she was so excited to have a baby. She wanted her so bad. This was their first child, and she loved her even when she didn't know what the gender was. She loved her unconditionally. She would have been the best mom that ever lived.

This was their first child, but also their last.

"Sir... I'm sorry," Said a nurse to his left. "She looked like a great woman. Your baby... She's ready to be held, if you'd like..."

"No." He said, not looking at the nurse. "I'd like to put her up for adoption."

"Sir, your wife would want you to take care of her..." She said, but trailed off when he glared at her.

"She would, but I can't. I just... can't. Promise me one thing though," John looked at the nurse. She nodded. "Her name will be Monique, and you have to make sure that her family is a good one."

The nurse slowly nodded. "I will, sir." she whispered, then smiled a tiny smile and walked out of the room, leaving the man to stare at his deceased wife, and sob for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

-[**]**[**]-

_*Now*  
*Same Time As The Last Chapter Took Place. Monique Is Four*_

"Daddy, I cleaned the dishes and sweeped the floor already, though." The little girl said, brushing her hands on her dirty, tattered, sad excuse of clothing.

"Well sweep the floor and wash the dishes again. Clean the bathrooms, _all_ of them, and make all the beds. Wipe all the windows, open all the curtains. Water the flowers and the garden. Mow the lawn, milk the cows, get the chicken eggs and feed the pigs. If any of this is left undone, you will be out of this house. You haven't failed me yet, but I doubt you can do all of that. After all, these _are _big girl duties." He said, his voice deep and rough, but catching a mocking gentle baby tone at the end. He sneered and pinched her cheek, hard.

Monique winced, but he was big and she was small. She couldn't do anything about it. Besides, she wanted to get out of this house anyways. So, now, she just waits for him to get home. She won't do any of that stuff he told her to. She never does. She hopes one day, he'll let her go and find a nice family that cares for her and doesn't make her do all the chores.

Her "daddy" has 10 adopted kids here, but he only makes her do the work. The other kids are just like him, and they always stay out of his way. She always seems to be in his way, and when she first got here, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. She supposes she set herself up for it, being in the way and loud all the time, but she doesn't think it's fair. She refuses to do it. All she can do now is sit, wait, relax and steal a coloring book from her "sister".

* * *

_**A/N:**_

_I know, I know. It's REALLY SHORT! But, Neccessary. I PROMISE. The chapters are all in a certain order. They need to be for age.  
I know, You wanted to know what Happened to Iggy and his Aunt, But I like suspence;)  
You'll find out, don't worry._

IT'S NATIONAL CAPS LOCK DAY! WOOOOO!

_Yeah, I don't really wanna type this all in caps;D  
My Favorite Song: Changing -Saosin  
Look it up, It's amazing. I liked most of the songs you guys put, too! Like Iris and stuff:)_

Random Question #2- What is your favorite book series?  
Well, Until next time! I PROMISE it will be longer, as I said, this was needed. 

_Bye Y'all! _

_-Andiey_


	4. Chapter 4: Depression

**Tragic Magic**

Chapter Four: Depression.

_*10 Years Old*_

The little dark haired boy walking alone on the street with only a backpack of clothes and chips had gone unnoticed by civilians for hours. He didn't know how he seemed to be invisible to them until now, but he was glad he at least made it this far.

You see, his new "father" had hated Fang. The little boy didn't know why or what he did, but he was hated by him none-the-less.

The family had four kids of their own already, so Fang guessed that they only let him in so that he could clean for them. So that he could be their butler. They were rich, yet they counted on a kid to do everything. Smart, don't you think? Yeah, no. Though so.

They even had little bells that they rung whenever they needed something done. It was a signal for Fang. That house was like being in Cinderella. The evil siblings and the evil parent. The deceased parent. Plus, it was like a mansion. The mansion could easily fit three regular two story houses inside of it and there would still be more room.

He hated it, and he hated them. He was glad that he got out of there.

With his head down and his hood up, he stepped onto the street and instantly heard honking from more than one car. When he looked up, the last thing he was able to process was that a car was headed straight towards him.

-[**]**[**]-

Max hasn't seen the light in two months. She's still stuck in that horrible house with Linda. Max tried to escape through the windows again, even though they were barred. She was so skinny that she could fit herself all the way through the bars. Her head was a bit difficult, but the rest of her body barely touched the bars on the way out. Of course, Max fell about two miles from the house, her legs giving out. Linda found her lying in a ditch, too weak to move anymore. Linda hadn't given her a bite to eat in more than a month. Her stomach stopped growling about two weeks ago. She can barely move. Max tried to stand, and when she couldn't do that, she tried to crawl. When she couldn't crawl, she tried to move her arms to pull herself across the floor. When she successfully pulled herself an inch, her arms gave out on her. She couldn't do it. She couldn't even pull herself just a little bit. She wanted to cry. Her eyes were dry. There wasn't enough water or salt in her body to produce any tears.

She was so weak that she couldn't even think anymore. She was only ten, why did this have to happen? "Because you're worthless", she told herself. She was worth nothing. Nothing at all. If she didn't exist, no one would mind. She wouldn't mind, either.

At the top of the basement stairs, the door creaked. Max almost stopped breathing. What was going to happen to her? Was she in for another beating? Did Linda want to kill her?

All these thoughts and more were racing through her mind, she didn't know what to do. She couldn't do anything. She was so weak.

Slowly, Linda came down the stairs. Every step creaked. Time seemed to be going slower than usual. It seemed to have almost stopped. Max barely lifted her head before being slapped so brutally hard that she passed out.

•••••••••••••••••

Max woke up in a hospital. Her stomach wasn't painfully gnawing on her insides to get nutrition anymore. She could move her arms and legs. She could move her head without so much effort. Linda wasn't there. That was the best part. Linda was nowhere to be seen.

A nurse walked in, and set a cup of water on her bedside table.

"They told me that you should be waking up anytime now. I got you a cup of water. You must be very thirsty!"

Max only nodded.

"Here you go, darling," the nurse said, "I hope you're feeling better. You've been through some tough times. I'm sorry."

Max sipped at the water, and then gulped when she realized how thirsty she actually was. She wished the nurse would either stop talking or say something important.

"Don't worry, Linda's in jail. She was in possession of some illegal drugs as well as beating you. We will put you with a nice new home. We'll take care of you this time." the nurse said, smiling.

Max knew that no one could take care of her but herself. She wished people wouldn't promise things that they didn't mean. Max nodded, not trusting a word the nurse said.

-[**]**[**]-

"We're losing him!" The doctor's exclaimed. They were doing everything they could to save him, they really were. The doctors and nurses were rushing around, trying to keep him from dying. Trying to keep the 10 year old kid alive.

Iggy had been in the hospital for about a week now. His new parents beat him horribly. He slipped into a coma for about two days, but the third day he woke up. He was a fighter, this kid. They had to keep him longer in case he went comatose again, and because his leg and his right arm were broken. Two of his fingers were fractured and his ankle on his good leg was sprained. The doctors didn't want him to go out like that. No, he needed to stay in here for a while.

They were aware that he was blind, so that was also something they worried about. I mean, if they let him go with even a broken leg, how was he going to get around?

Suddenly, in the middle of all the chaos, Iggy's heart began to work again. He didn't open his eyes, but at least he was living. The doctor immediately went and checked him out.

The doctor sighed heavily.

"He's in a coma again."

-[**]**[**]-

*Eight Years Old*

Nudge stared into the tiny mirror in her school's bathroom. She was scared. The intercom told the whole building to go into lockdown. She was going to the bathroom at the moment, and couldn't really go into the nearest classroom right then..  
Nudge turned around, looking for a hiding place. Problem was, the bathroom is a really open place. Except the stalls, of course, but even then you can see peoples' feet. She couldn't hide anywhere in here. She opened to door to the bathroom very slowly. She poked her head out and looked around. No one was there.

It was absolutely silent. Everybody knew that they shouldn't talk when this happened. It's happened to her school more than once. Break-ins, lockdowns. She's always been in a classroom when it happened, though. She's never been this far away from anyone's room. Even when they were just having an unexpected drill.

She rushed out of the bathroom, looking everywhere. She didn't see anyone..

She relaxed a bit. Nerves wouldn't help her right now. She knocked on the nearest door, hoping they would know it was her. Hoping they would open up for her. Her hope was lost when she knocked on the third classroom door and nobody answered. She wasn't surprised, really. Just scared.

Nudge turned a corner without thinking. She didn't look first. She bumped into someone. She looked up, fearful. He had a knife. He plunged it into her leg and ran. Nudge screamed and fell, but he kept on running. He ran right back out the doors. She guessed he just wanted to hurt someone. She didn't know why it had to be her though.

Her vision blurry, she barely saw all the teachers crowding around her. She still felt the pain. She was still screaming, and the ambulance came about three minutes later. Nudge was taken to the hospital.

•••••••••••••••••

When the doctors were done poking and prodding her, she was fine. They bandaged her leg, and told her she would be able to use it still. It might take awhile for it to completely heal, but it would.

She was grateful for that, but at the time, she wanted to be left alone. Everyone was buzzing around her, trying to see if she needed anything. Her "family" never came to see her, but they were probably busy with work. Nudge fell asleep, followed by nightmares of the man.

-[**]**[**]-

*5 Years Old*

Drew was getting ready for his first day of Kindergarten. He had the afternoons, because he wasn't a morning person. Kyla, his mom, was helping him pick out clothes.

"Mommy, I should wear this one!" Drew exclaimed, showing Kyla is Batman suit.

Kyla laughed, "Oh no, sweety, that's not for school! That's for halloween or costume parties."

He pouted, not pleased with this information. "But Mommyyyyy", he whined, "I wanna wear this oneee."

Drew dragged out his words, still pouting. Kyla smiled down at him, lovingly. "How about we make a deal?", she said. Drew nodded enthusiastically. "If you wear this", she motioned to the blue jeans and short sleeve shirt that she picked out, "then when you get home, you can put Batman on and we can go get ice cream."

He smiled and nodded, even more enthusiastic. "Yeah, I want the superman ice cream!"

Kyla once again laughed at him. His obsession with superheroes was so cute. "Okay, D, let's get this on and go wait for the bus to pick you up."

"Okay, mommy."

•••••••••••••••••

Drew was all dressed, waiting for the bus. Kyla gasped. "Wait, we need to brush your hair!"

She got a comb and brushed his short black hair for him. A few strands were still sticking up, but it didn't look horrible. When she was done, he smiled up at her again. His dimples stood out and his eyes seemed to smile, too. A blue pool filled with happiness. She hoped he would always stay so happy. She wanted nothing more than happiness for her sweet little angel.

The bus pulled up and she took his hand, walking him out to it. When he was safely on, the bus driver shut the doors and started up the street. Kyla waved and sighed. He was growing up way too fast.

-[**]**[**]-

"Why don't I have a mommy?", Asher asked both of his dad. For a minute, they were speechless. They looked at Asher, then looked at each other. Both looks were identical, both saying the same thing: What do we tell him?

They knew that someday the question would come up. They knew that someday he would ask, but they figured that the question would be later. They didn't even imagine having to explain it all to a five year old.

Ben, Asher's biological father, answered first.

"Well, Asher...", he paused, trying to find his words. "Sometimes, men marry men and women marry women. You don't have a mommy because I chose to marry a man-"

Jake, his other (unbiological) father, cut Ben off. "So, you have two dads now. It's just like having a mommy and a daddy. This family is just more special." Jake and Ben smiled, satisfied with their quick answer.

"But Tony said that if I didn't have a mommy, I was weird." Asher said, looking up at them. "Am I weird?"

"No! You aren't weird at all!" Ben exclaimed.

"Tony just doesn't understand yet. Having two daddy's is way cooler than having a mommy." Jake told him.

Asher smiled. "Okay." His black hair fell in front of his eyes. Asher tried to move it away, but it fell right back again.

"Looks like someone needs a haircut!" Ben laughed, picking Asher up and setting him on his shoulders.

Ben wondered if he would ever get bullied for having two dads. He really hoped that never, ever happened.

-[**]**[**]-

*3 Years Old*

Dylan was in his room. Crying. Again. His life was alright and happy until it happened. Until his father got sick. Until his father died. Dylan's mother took it hard, but so did he. He cried for the loss, but his mother didn't. Her face was void of emotion. He didn't know what to do, so he tried to hug her, or hold her hand. As soon as he stepped towards her, she slapped him. Hard. On the face.

He was mortified. Why would his mommy do that to him when his daddy just died in front of him? Why?

And here he is, a year later, and she still hasn't stopped hitting him. She's not just hitting now, though. Sometimes she gets drunk and starts kicking and punching, too. Sometimes she just leaves him alone.

All the time, he cries.

Dylan doesn't understand why she's hitting him. It isn't going to bring his daddy back. Sometimes he thinks he deserves being hit because why else would his mommy do that to him? He must deserve it. He must've done something horrible. He doesn't know what, but it must have been really horrible.

* * *

**A/N:**

_Ugh, I'm horrible at updating! Sorry if this chapter is really bad, I had writers block. I hope it satisfies you all, though._

Thank you to those who reviewed and urged me to write more.

It really helped, even though it still took me a long time.

High School is busy, y'know? Writing this chapter was my procrastination on writing an essay. ;)

Anyways, Thanks for sticking with me. (Well I hope you all don't hate me and continue to read this story..)

Love y'all and I really will try to write the next chapter faster.. but I'm not making any promises!

_Bye y'all!_

-Andiey


End file.
